Potty training

Last week I promised I do a potty training update. Obviously, I haven’t. Because I hate potty training, and just thinking about it once the boys are asleep gives me a massive headache.


Suffice it to say, things aren’t going well.

I’ve talked to lots of people over the past year who led me to believe that “all you have to do is let them run around naked,” and they’ll train in 3 days.

Sounds good, right? Who likes the feel of poop and pee running down their legs?

I’ll tell you who.  Zach, Charlie and Cooper Kahn. 

Holy hell.

Actually, things got a little better around day 8 of potty training. While Cooper is back to diapers full time (and seems happier that way), Charlie and Zach want nothing to do with diapers. Which is good, I guess, but they still are a LONG way from being potty trained. Baby steps, I guess. And then we’ll work on the Coopster.

A quick story to demonstrate the problems I’ve had with potty training (aside from the massive amounts of pee I’ve had to clean from my floors and furniture):

Every Wednesday, I take the boys to Kindermusik (a music class, where musical prodigies shake rattles, ring bells, and bang each other over the heads with drumsticks). This morning, we get to class, everyone takes off their shoes, and we join the music circle. The teacher breaks out the guitar, and the fun begins:

Charlie:    Mama – I gotta go pee pee!

Zach:     I go pee pee too!!

Of course, music class has no bathroom. I grab the key for the bathroom down the hallway. I open the heavy door to the bathroom (which locks itself as soon as it shuts), and Zach runs in (barefoot... we are all barefoot). Charlie runs away, “ No potty, mommy!  I go to music class!” “Charlie, get back here!” I shout, while propping up the door that feels like it is made out of iron, so as not to lock Zach in.   Zach whines: “Mommy I go potty!”

God.

So since I can’t just lock Zach in the bathroom, I scoop him up and run back down the hall to Charlie who is now banging on the music door. I crack open the door to the music class, and quickly shove Charlie in. Zach and I then run back down the hallway to the bathroom. And just as I am unlocking the iron door and Zach is running in, pants are going down, I hear the SCREAMING from music class (all the way down the hallway and behind two closed doors). Charlie.

What to do? I ignore it. Zach’s gotta pee.  Cooper'll take care of his little brother.

So I hoist Zach over the potty. He shoots out about a teaspoon of pee (which lands on my pants, not in the toilet).  "I all done! No more pee pee in there!"  We are pulling up his pants when someone unlocks the heavy door… it is another mom in the class, her son, and a screaming Charlie in tow. “He wanted you,” she tells me.

I feel the sweat of mortification dripping down my face, thank her, and shuffle the boys out of the bathroom and back to music class, when suddenly Zach starts to wail. “Mama I need to wash my hands! My hands Mama!!”

SINCE WHEN DO YOU LIKE CLEAN HANDS???

Zach runs back down to the bathroom, and I follow, dragging a loudly protesting Charlie.  I would have cried myself, if the whole situation wasn't so freaking ridiculous.

Fifteen minutes after class has begun, we rejoin the music circle, in time to bang tambourines.

After class, I apologized to the teacher for the incident with Charlie. She laughed. She said, “You know, when you guys left, Cooper got really happy. Grinning from ear-to-ear. He kind of seemed happy he was alone!” Good old Cooper. When the going gets tough, Cooper laughs mommy and his brothers.

So that’s kind of been the story of my life the past 2 weeks. I've thought about ditching all efforts, but since Zach and Charlie seem to be making slight progress, I'll keep pushing forward.  And try very hard not to cry.